


Hey, Young Blood.

by blepharism



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Caring Hannibal Lecter, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, FTM Hannibal Lecter, FTM Will Graham, Fledglings, M/M, Names, Porn With Plot, mlm author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 19:11:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13687992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blepharism/pseuds/blepharism
Summary: There was an ache forming in the back of Will's skull — growing and festering as he inched towards the house. His hesitance was not born from the usual hallucinations, but, instead, fright that there was yet another problem with him — something new.





	Hey, Young Blood.

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting my work in a long time. The porn will be in the second chapter which is slowly being worked on among other stories to be posted soon. 
> 
> Please refrain from referring to my works as sinful or anything along those lines — thank you. 
> 
> For later clarification: Hannibal has bottom surgery.

Dampness; the rain had stopped hours ago though the air remained damp — smelling of birch trees and wet earth. It was just the sort of distraction that was welcome on the site of a gruesome murder. Will Graham had already inspected the inside of the home and he now stood at the end of the driveway where it was quiet, dragging in deep breaths meant to calm him. The air smelled like fishing in the morning when the plants were damp with dew and the moisture in the air only strengthened the grounding affect — like mist from the river. He ran his hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh through his nose while his muscles took their turns to relax then tense again as Jack called for him. There was an ache forming in the back of his skull — growing and festering as he inched towards the house. His hesitance was not born from the usual hallucinations, but, instead, fright that there was yet another problem with him — something new. 

Inside, Will found Jack standing in the center of the living room staring at the broken body of the former resident. This murder had been done artfully — something which had the profiler on edge as he had first drifted around the mutilated corpse, inspecting the handywork. He found his headache growing worse as he took in a breathe which smelled too strongly of blood. Will found his throat was dry and his voice cracked as he gave his basic profile of the killer: most likely the work of the Chesapeake Ripper from the removed kidney and artful display. It was enough of an ego stroke for Jack who patted him on the shoulder before heading out the front door knowing he had been right this time. There was a larger mass of consciousness which Will possessed to push himself out the door himself — while a smaller portion begged him back inside. Will ignored the itch in his throat and clenched his teeth which ached as he tried to resolve the feeling inside him — it was not starvation. 

&&&

“We feel emotions in complex ways, William, and you should know this better than anyone. This starvation which you feel could be the physical manifestation of something emotional which is consuming you,” Doctor Lecter said, standing near his desk with his schedule book idly held in his hand. His eyes followed Will as he walked laps around the office with no apparent thought to the action — he was restless. Hannibal decided to continue as his thought garnered no response from his companion, “Perhaps…this is something emotional which you are lacking instead of something you feel about yourself. Are you feeling that your emotional needs are met, Will?” 

Will stopped in the far corner where he closed his eyes as his fingers gripped at his bangs. The brown curls settled between his fingers and he seemed almost like a tortured roman statue. Hannibal set his book down on the desk — leaving its side to approach Will who took in a deep breath through his nose and stirred. He looked straight at Hannibal with an emptiness in his eyes which marvelled the doctor, though he said nothing and instead offered his hand to Will who gently took it. They stood there in each others space for just a few minutes before those empty eyes seemed to come back to focus. Will took his hand back almost as if he’d been burned by the touch and stepped around the doctor to get to his bag. All the while, he hurried out some frantic excuse so he could shoot out the office door and Hannibal allowed it — curious. 

&&&

Bright; the headlights of oncoming vehicles were way too bright to the point of nearly being blinding. Will felt as if his head was splitting in two which was nothing compared to the tightness in his stomach. He felt his vision blur as he turned onto the thankfully lonely road which his house sat on. 

When he finally got inside, he kept the lights off and never once lost his footing even as his dogs swarmed around his feet. They smelled more than usual which led him to make a mental note they needed to be bathed the next morning. He stepped into the kitchen and began to look for something to stop the empty feeling which was growing painful. There was nothing that seemed appetizing in the end, so he shut all of the cupboards and headed for the sink. He put cold water on his face and wondered idly what the hell was wrong now after everything that was already happening. There was a chill that ran up his body as he glanced up from the sink to see the scene from the morning right before him in his dining room. He could see the blood on the corpse clearly — it made his mouth water and his teeth once again sparked with an ache that was almost blinding.

&&&

Will stood in his living room and his hands were bloody. He had no memory of leaving the house — no inkling of where the blood had come from. All he realized was that the ache in his head was gone and he no longer felt sick to his stomach. In a state of confusion, he trekked to the bathroom to wash the red off his hands and from under his nails. He felt very disoriented and somewhere he felt he should be concerned with what was going down his drain, but he was full which mattered the most in that moment.

He walked out into the hallway and glanced out into the living room — realizing his dogs had not followed him to the bathroom. With his nerves rising, he wandered into the living room where he was quick to notice the jacket laid over one of his chairs. Hannibal was at his house, and so his dogs were likely upstairs in one of the bedrooms or outside. Will wanted to go look for them for comfort though he was stopped when Hannibal appeared down the hallway.

“Will,” Hannibal greeted, sounding serious which set the other even more on edge than before. He thought about his hands covered with blood and suddenly realized what must have happened — he felt disgusted. “I was worried after you left my office this evening. I came to check on you only to find you missing.” 

He watched as Will furrowed his brow and swallowed his anxiety — eyes searching the ground as if his memories would he there in the floorboards. “I was...out.”

It set the younger further on edge when he heard a sigh and he nearly stepped away when Hannibal came forward to tilt his chin up. He looked down at Will with too much focus in his eyes for the dimness of the moon shining through the windows. Then again, it was odd that Will could see him so clearly either and he furrowed his brow as he tried to piece whatever had happened together. He felt hazy and his eyes wanted to go anywhere else but to those very distracting eyes, yet his gaze stuck. Hannibal took the opportunity to pull out a handkerchief and wipe something from Will’s frown which he then examined in the moonlight. Will found himself free to look as soon as the man turned his eyes away, but he wished he hadn’t as he saw the red staining the cloth. 

“William,” Hannibal said, and his eyes were immediately met by the younger man. “I’m afraid you have a very serious illness and I’m afraid that there is no one else to blame than myself for what is happening to you. I should not have waited so long to respond to these changes.”

The comment came with a look of deeper confusion and with distrust deep below green eyes. Hannibal reached up to run a thumb across Will’s lips which twitched at the touch — his immediate reaction to bare his teeth which seemed to be more prominent than usual. He pulled his thumb away when Will began to speak, though he continued to hold his face.

“What did you do to me? What am I sick with? What causes this?” His voice was breaking, scared. “I saw the body from the scene...and I felt…” 

“What did you feel, William?” 

As if compelled, Will spoke, “Hungry.”

Hannibal nodded and he leaned close to kiss Will gently on the lips before he moved away — collecting his jacket from the chair. “I want you to come to dinner tomorrow night. For now, you will go to your bed and rest, William.” 

Will asked no further questions and simply went to bed.

&&&

Rested; it was the first time in months that Will felt as though he had a good night's sleep. He woke up and planned to take his dogs out to wash them though passed when he realized he no longer smelled them. As he ran his fingers through their fur in his living room, the memories from the early morning came back to him and he quickly stood to get dressed. He had dinner with Doctor Lecter. 

&&&

The house was quiet when Will arrived and he found that there were no tell-tale smells of cooking food which unsettled him. He wandered into the kitchen to find it empty and then took himself to the dining room — hearing soft voices from the room. There was some hesitation in the doorway as his senses suddenly shot on fire at the smell of blood though he stepped in a moment later, pushed by the fear Hannibal had been injured somehow. He found no sign of the Doctor in the room. There was just music playing from a record player in the corner and atop the table was a wine glass with a card in front of it. Will could tell the contents of the glass was not wine though he felt no disgust, no upset at the idea of a glass of blood set out for him.

He picked up the card from the table and read it — a simple note to tell him that his host would be back within a half hour and the glass was to tide Will over till dinner. It was then that it began to bother him somewhere in the back of his head and so he went to sit at the far end away from the glass. He stared at it hard and breathed it in. It smelt even better than the last body he had been to see: the Ripper victim. He was curious though he stayed put in his chair until he heard his name and looked up to see Hannibal in the doorway.

“Will, you didn’t touch your glass, dearest.” 

The younger man looked from Hannibal to the glass set on the table and didn’t move, didn’t speak. He wanted to know what was happening to him — what this was that was going on at this moment. His breathing was picking up and he set his jaw to try staving off the coming panic attack eating at his nerves, making him tremble. 

Hannibal was silent for a few minutes as he took the time to put his coat on the back of a chair and adjust his sleeves. He then picked the glass up with his typical, peculiar amount of grace and swirled the liquid inside. It had been slightly congealed from sitting out though he seemed not to mind as he took a drink then lowered the cup to smile at Will. He offered it to him for just a second, but found the younger to still be defiant toward his needs so he simply continued to drink it himself. 

“Do you have any idea what your illness may be, William?” 

“I have a few guesses, though I find it hard to believe.” 

Hannibal went to stand by the fireplace where he held the wine glass between his hands while he watched Will struggle through his thoughts. “Then you believe your illness is not something which exists in this world. Perhaps it is something more attuned to horror movies and story books.” 

“Am I delusional, Dr. Lecter?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“You’re not afraid. You did this on purpose.” 

The accusation came with an icy glare which Hannibal was quick to meet with his own calm gaze. He was not going to be intimidated by the tone or the emotion coursing through Will — making him shake. This hinted at a lack of control which Hannibal itched to develop further, but he restrained himself in favor of approaching this more logically for the time being. 

“What has been done cannot be undone. You must see the necessity in allowing your judgements of my actions to pass and allow me to guide you,” Hannibal said as he came closer to the trembling form at his dining table. He kept his voice calm as he continued, “Loneliness is not favorable, and nobody can know our secret.” 

Will looked into his eyes and he was frightened to find his gaze was once more stuck, trapped. He felt Hannibal press a hand to his cheek. “You have another option besides hurting people to get what you need, but you have to trust me. Do you trust me, Will?” 

Hesitant as it was, he agreed. 

&&&

Smokey; the bedroom smelled from all the candles burning on various surfaces. It had surprised Will when he first came into the room as he had never expected Hannibal to leave something so dangerous out while he was gone. He supposed, however, that Hannibal had lit them when he came home in preparation for whatever their evening entailed. It seemed as if the whole evening had been carefully cultivated and it was stupid to doubt this scene would be either. 

“To be clear, you need blood in your system from an external source — to consume it is to sustain your life.” 

Will listened to Hannibal as the man went to his bedroom table where he retrieved a scalpel from the nightstand. It took the younger quite a bit of courage to reduce the statement to a simple term. “A Vampire,” Will muttered, almost in disbelief.

“Precisely,” Hannibal sat down at the end of the bed with the scalpel held loosely in his hand. “Last night, you ripped open the throat of a young woman returning home from work. You were lucky I had followed you and was able to dispose of the body — somebody could have caught you.” 

He watched his guest swallow once again at the prospect of killing a human being — of consuming their blood. It gave Hannibal enough of a kick to smile. “You must not be hungry anymore and you should not have to consume for another few days — it will slowly become weekly and then monthly.”

“I don’t want to hurt people,” Will interrupted, sounding as if he was desperate for another answer.

“You don’t have to harm anyone, William, so long as you are with me,” Hannibal said and he saw the tiny inkling of hope which sparked behind green eyes. “You can feed from me and you will never have to have more than that.” 

It was then that Hannibal waved the younger to come to the bed where they sat side by side. It was silent for just a few moments as Hannibal used the scalpel to prick his finger, an offering to Will. The droplet was placed on his lips and his tongue was quick to dart out — to lap what was still dripping from the tiny incision. It made Hannibal smile and Will only seemed to come back to himself when the wound bled no more. He tried to move away from the other, but was stopped. 

“William, sit.” 

He did and Hannibal gently took one of his hands. Their eyes met for a moment as the doctor spoke, “You have no reason to feel shame for this.”

Will allowed his arm to be guided to Hannibal’s lips where the man kissed it before bringing the scalpel to the skin. He made a small cut on his forearm which was barely felt and then sealed his lips around it. There was nothing urgent about the feeding, not like the movies where they sucked and bit at their victim to make them bleed. Hannibal simply let the blood from the cut seep into his mouth until he got enough to lean away and swallow. Will felt like there was no air left in the room for a moment as he watched Hannibal press another kiss to the cut which was beginning to clot. His face was burning. 

“We can be beneficial to each other,” Hannibal said, and he smiled with the tips of his too sharp teeth showing — looking dangerous in that moment. He licked the wound that he has inflicted upon the other as if he was attempting to get another taste from it. That was what prompted Will to pull his wrist away with surprisingly little resistance. He stood up from the bed to flee towards the bedroom door which was also allowed with no spoken complaints. His hand wrapped around the knob, but he hesitated and took the moment to look back at Hannibal who seemed focused on the scalpel in his hands. It took only a second for their eyes to meet which left Will once more caught in some sort of trance, fixated.

“You know you’ll have to come back,” Hannibal said, eyes searching for something before he dropped them to admire the light reflecting off the scalpel. It allowed the younger to turn away for a moment — hand sliding off the doorknob as he came back to the edge of the bed. His eyes were tearing into the man before him with something not quite angry, but certainly unforgiving. 

Their eyes met again though there was no time for getting lost at this point as they came within inches of each other — their noses brushing before their lips locked. Will kissed with his teeth which pierced the soft skin of surprised lips and drew two pricks of blood which he nearly melted at the taste of. He pushed at Hannibal’s shoulders till they pressed into the mattress behind them with no complaint, just a loose growl. 

It certainly felt twisted, but that was nothing new and this was just a confirmation in the moment that something was new. It was a moment of control. Will pulled away from the kiss and licked the blood off his lips, feeling sluggish, though it didn’t stop him from fleeing out the door..


End file.
